Leading MAN
Daniel Dae Kim's mother worries about "the traditional things, like having a family, having a good career, and making enough money." With a penchant for acting, Kim is not your typical Asian American Number One Son.
"During my senior year [in college], I got a number of offers for corporate jobs. When I turned them all down, my parents were pretty upset," recalls Kim. But once the determined young Kim enrolled in the graduate acting program seven years ago at New York University's Tisch School for the Arts, his parents realized he was serious about his craft. "They've swung around," says Kim. "They're more supportive than ever. My career is going well, and they've realized that I'm actually not that bad," Kim laughs.
Mia Katigbak, artistic producing director of New York's National Asian American Theater Company (NATCO), would certainly agree. "Truly, truly gifted," is how she describes Kim. Katigbak, who cast Kim as the young male ingenue Horace in NATCO's production of Moliere's The School for Wives, recalls the first time she saw Kim on stage, as Toryaid in Pan Asian Repertory Theater's 1960s-Long-Island adaptation of A Doll's House: "I thought,'oh, poor kid, he's been so miscast -- he's so young!' But he did a great job. Then when he came to audition for us, I knew he was very skilled. To go from a modern adaptation of Ibsen to a French comedy -- he really has ability."'
Kim also counts among his many fans Rosemarie Tichler, artistic producer at The Public Theater, who taught the audition technique class during Kim's last year at NYU/Tisch. "Dan has the best kind of ambition," Tichler explains. "He wants to be good. To be great at what he does -- it's not so much a matter of making money. To be successful in theater as an actor, you have to have three things: talent, luck, and will," she adds with stress. "I've seen a lot of people who have one or two of those things. Dan certainly has the talent, and he's had luck. But he also has that will to make it happen and that's what's unusual about him."
High praise certainly for the young Kim, who got into acting on a whim. Born in Korea and raised in Pennsylvania, Kim planned on being a lawyer until he let a friend talk him into being in a play during his sophomore year at Haverford College. "But I thought there was no way that I could be an actor, because there weren't many Asian American actors out there." Still, while most of his friends were off in Europe junior year, Kim headed to the Eugene O'Neill Theatre Center's National Theatre Institute and got hooked. "My dad thought it was just a phase, so he and my mom let me go," laughs Kim. "Even now, my dad jokes that he should never have let me go there."
With the proper training, the roles came quickly for Kim, not only in theater, but in film and television as well. Based in New York for seven years until his recent move to Los Angeles, Kim enjoyed playing substantial roles at such Off-Broadway venues as The Public Theater, to filming "a few good scenes with Richard Gere" in Jackal, to upcoming guest starring roles on NYPD Blue as well as a new show called Night Man.
Although Kim has relocated to the West Coast to follow more readily accessible film and television work, his first love is undoubtedly theater. "There's something about being in a house with an audience, and having that immediate feedback. I started acting because of that energy; it's what feeds me onstage and informs my choices. What's great in theater is that you can sustain the arc of a character for a full three hours, whereas in film or TV, you have to create that arc in little pieces, and usually out of sequence," explains Kim. Currently filming a TV pilot slotted for the fall, he laments, "I miss that right now." But not for long. Kim is due to return East in October to star in NATCO's production of Eugene O'Neill's Long Day's Journey Into Night.
In spite of his initial concern that Asian American actors were too few, Kim has been able (and is obviously talented enough) to find steady work. More importantly, he's been even luckier in being able to turn down stereotypical roles he feels would be offensive. But while some roles are clearly problematic, others are not so obvious, says Kim, stressing that what is in the shooting script can often be completely different from the actual product. Kim recalls auditioning for "an all-American, patriotic businessman, [a part that] called for me to talk about what it meant to be an American and why this country is better than any other in the world." At the audition, the director unexpectedly asked for an Asian accent -- something that was not integral to the character, nor the story. The director loved Kim, but only with the unnecessary accent. Kim stood his ground and refused the role, even when they offered more money. "In the end, they cast a white actor," Kim says.
In other instances, Kim has been confronted with stereotypes, only after he's been cast. "Sometimes, it's hard to tell if a role is going to be stereotypical until you get on the set, in which case, you have to bring up your concerns and objections right there and then, which is never pleasant," he comments. But Kim also knows how to be diplomatic: "If you bring up your concerns in a non-threatening way, people are often amenable to change."
Change is also an observation Kim makes about Asian Americans in the acting industry. In spite of the unfortunate plethora of unchallenging, undesirable roles out there, Kim believes the opportunities for Asian American actors are getting better. "I have to believe it's getting better, or else I wouldn't be doing this," he laughs ruefully. Kim notes that each generation has produced just one or two actors who have broken into the mainstream, dating back to pioneers such as Anna May Wong and Sessue Hayakawa. "In that sense, things have not changed all that much," Kim says. "But three things have occurred recently that allow me to be optimistic. One is that this generation of Asian Americans seems to be more diverse in their interests than in those past. They -- I should say, we -- on the whole have more disposable income, and are willing to spend it going to the theater, the movies, or subscribing to magazines like A. Two, both Hollywood and especially the New York theater community have committed themselves to non-traditional casting in a way that goes beyond lip service and tokenism. It's not perfect yet by any means, but it represents a step in the right direction. And three, and most importantly, not only do more Asian Americans want to act, but more of us also want to direct, write, and produce than in years past, putting us in a position where we don't necessarily have to depend on other people to create. I really believe that our success in the entertainment field, as well as our profile in society, depends on that collaborative effort. That's what gives me hope for the coming years."
